


Falling for you

by Mageless



Category: Good Omens
Genre: Angst, M/M, falling, sorry!!!
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-05
Updated: 2019-07-05
Packaged: 2020-06-15 12:04:10
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 407
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19615156
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mageless/pseuds/Mageless
Summary: Inspired by a tumblr fanart I saw :P which I twisted from something beautiful into something really rather sad.Big shout out to Speremint of tumblr





	Falling for you

Angels didn’t just fall, they burned. They left behind their heavenly grace like a meteor entered the atmosphere, all fire and flames and the distinct smell of burnt, beautiful feathers, until all that’s left of those pure, graceful wings is charred, melted flesh. Ugly, broken flesh.

And that was what Aziraphale was. Ugly, broken. More than when he was a pathetic excuse for an angel, more than when he indulged on food and wine and allowed himself to be ‘soft’. More even than he first said yes to the demons ‘arrangement’. He was a shameful existstence. An _abhorrent_ one, which only made the pain worse.

Falling wasn’t just losing your wings: The entire core of your being was ripped from you, twisted and stuffed with hellfire like a wretched pig, then plunged inside of you again, a tattered, lonely relic of what it once was. The knowledge that God has abandoned you writhes inside you like a boiling resentment in your heart, and there is just so much _feeling_. All of these emotions roaring at each other inside his head. All of it was agony. All of it.

But that wasn’t what made him cry.

Michael was right, he had gone soft, but despite how shivering or defenceless or broken Aziraphale may seem, crying was never on the table. Not until he saw Crowley, his demon, staring at those tattered, shameful wings. Not until he saw his friends heart fracture right before his eyes. They weren’t even sad tears, not even slightly, because this was why he fell: For Crowley. For the demon who cared a little too much, loved a little too truly, thought a bit more wildly than the rest of his ilk. If it was for Crowley, he could fall. Hell, he could fall twice, or thrice, or however many times was required to stand like this, ashamed yes, but also free. Free to smile, and walk forward, and place his best friends hands upon his cheek, where the serpent tried desperately to brush his tears away.

“My dear...” he muttered, his breathe catching in his throat as his wings twitch in pain. “It seems I’ve fallen for you.” Aziraphale hoped his little joke hit home, because after that his strength left him and he fell, both to his knees and into the darkness of his mind, the days events catching up to him.

 _No..._ he thought. _Not a very good angel at all._


End file.
